


The Monkey and the Robin

by AchillesMonkey



Series: Robin and Mama May [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Family Feels, Gen, Team as Family, mama may
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 09:23:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13455294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AchillesMonkey/pseuds/AchillesMonkey
Summary: Sometimes, Robin's visions upset Fitz, but he finds a way to apologize for losing his temper.





	The Monkey and the Robin

May, Robin, Fitz, and Jemma sat around a makeshift table eating dinner. Well, May, Fitz, and Jemma were eating. Robin was staring off in the distance; her eyes were unfocused, and her wooden robin was lying on the table next to her plate.

“Mack, no!” the child cried out suddenly. “You’re making them mad! They’re going to hurt her!” She whimpers and tears spill from her eyes and down her cheeks. “Yo-Yo!”

Fitz began clenching and unclenching his left hand repeatedly. Jemma grabbed his right hand and rubbed the back of it with her thumb. May picked up the wooden robin and pressed it into Robin’s hand.

“Robin, sweetie, can you focus for me? Tell me where you are. What are you doing?” Robin grasped the wooden robin in her hand and blinked. “Where are you, Robin?” May repeated.

“The Lighthouse,” Robin answered after a pause.

“Good. What are you doing?”

Robin’s brow furrowed and she looked at the plates on the table. “Eating?”

“Yes, good,” May praised. “Can you eat a little more for me, sweetie?”

Robin picked up her fork and took a bite of chicken. The fork fell from her hand as her eyes unfocused again. Her eyes refocused and she stared across the table at Fitz and Jemma. “You stab her,” she told Fitz. “You have a knife and you stab her. Then you hit her with a paint can. You knock her out. You’re bleeding, and she’s bleeding--”

“STOP IT!” Fitz threw his fork onto his plate with a clatter and glared across the table as Robin flinched and fell silent.

“Fitz, she’s just a child,” Jemma reminded him, one hand going to squeeze his shoulder. “She can’t help it.”

Fitz took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. He blew the breath out as his hand dropped to his lap. “I know,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“Robin,” Jemma addressed the little girl, “that wasn’t our Fitz who did that. That was an LMD. Understand?”

Robin stared at some point above Jemma’s head, one hand rubbing her wooden robin. “I need to draw,” she announced.

“Jemma, will you take her?” May requested.

Jemma nodded and squeezed Fitz’s shoulder again before she stood and took Robin’s hand, leading her out of the room.

Fitz stared at his plate, fingers drumming against his thighs as he squirmed internally. He knew May had a disapproving frown on her face without even looking. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I know she’s just a kid, and can’t help it. It’s just--I’m so bloody tired of hearing about blood and death!”

“How do you think she feels?” May questioned. “If you’re ‘bloody tired’ of it, then she’s _fucking exhausted_.”

Fitz winced and nodded. “I know; I’m sorry,” he repeated again.

“I know that controlling your temper is challenging for you,” May told him, “and I know why that is, but you’re the adult here, Fitz. Act like it.”

Fitz heard her stand and walk away. A few minutes later, someone else entered. He felt Jemma’s hands land on his shoulders. “Are you okay?” Jemma asked.

Fitz sighed. “Yeah,” he answered, “just feeling like an arse.”

“Robin--” Jemma cut herself off before finishing her thought.

Fitz thought she may have been about to say that Robin understands that Fitz didn’t mean anything by shouting, but that would have been a lie. Fitz had meant what he shouted, and Robin didn’t understand. Fitz himself barely understood his temper.

“I’ll make it up to her,” he told Jemma as he stood and they began to gather the plates. “I’ll apologize. Somehow.”

Jemma stopped him on their way to the sink and kissed him. “I know you will, Fitz. You’re a good man. Don’t forget that.”

~*~*~*~

A few days later, Fitz knocked on the door to May and Robin’s bedroom. “It’s open,” May’s voice called out. He entered, fidgeting with the papers he had in his hand. Robin was on the floor in front of May, who was sitting on the edge of the bed brushing Robin’s hair.

“Hi,” Fitz greeted them, shifting from foot to foot as he stopped a few feet away from the bed. “Erm, Robin?” The little girl looked up at him, and he could see that she was currently aware of her surroundings. “I made you something. Do you want to see?”

Robin nodded, so Fitz sat down next to her on the floor, crossing his legs. He handed over the pages to the little girl, who looked through them with interest. He’d written her a story as an apology. Robin climbed into Fitz’s lap. “Do you want me to read it to you?” Fitz asked.

Robin nodded, and Fitz took the pages back, showing her the first page where he’d drawn a monkey and a robin. “ _The Monkey and the Robin_ ,” he read. He flipped to the next page. “Once upon a time, a monkey and a robin lived together in a lighthouse. They were good friends. They had fun together.” He’d drawn the monkey and the robin playing a game with a lighthouse in the background.

The next page showed the monkey and the robin in an argument. “Sometimes, the robin said things that scared the monkey, and the monkey would get angry. Sometimes, the monkey would shout and throw things, and then the robin would feel scared. This wasn’t okay. The monkey should never make the robin feel scared.”

The final page showed the monkey hugging the robin. “The monkey told the robin he was sorry. They were friends again. The end.” Fitz waited to see if Robin would react, but she didn’t. “What do you think?” he asked her. “Can we be friends again?”

Robin traced the picture of the monkey and robin hugging with her finger. “No.”

Fitz’s face was crestfallen. “Why not?”

“‘Cause we’re not friends.”

“I thought we were?”

“No,” Robin told him. “You’re my brother.”

Fitz felt tears well up in his eyes. “Yeah, I guess I kinda am,” he agreed.

“Mom adopted you like she adopted me,” Robin explained, “and Jemma and Daisy too.”

Fitz glanced up at May, who was watching them with a small smile. “Yeah, she did.”

“Mom puts shaving cream on your hand.”

“What?” Fitz focused back on Robin.

“On the Bus. You fall asleep and Mom comes in and puts shaving cream on your hand.”

Fitz turned to glare at May, whose smile had turned into a smirk. “She’s right,” May admitted. “That was me.”

“Bloody hell,” Fitz muttered, shaking his head in disbelief.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, and for any kudos/comments! I'm unlessimwrongwhichyouknowimnot on Tumblr!


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